last weekend my friends and i re-instituted weekend travel excursions with a bang. we chose to visit rishikesh, a lovely city on the ganga with a large following of counter-culture tourists and delicious israeli food.
the five of us almost cried when we took our first bite of falafel and greek salad (however, those tasty greens could have impelled the "oregon trail" entry found below) at our quaint hotel. 
for sunset we rode down to the river on brian and ethan's motorcycles (brian, cole and jamie packed on one bike) and watched the sun fall behind the rocky coast. we noticed a boat driving by and brian and i scurried to the water to signal the driver over. 
a sunset cruise on the ganga reminded me of the many sunset cruises on big pine lake, except this particular boatride included wake jumping and tight circle turns. we felt like little kids at a carnival, yelping in delight as the driver maneuvered the boat over another wave.we spent the rest of the night sitting by a campfire with some international hippies, singing "sweet home alabama" (among other songs) with two accompanying guitars at a beachside campfire, eating in the dark after a power outage at a restaraunt on the banks of the river and relaxing in our hotel's courtyard.
we awoke on sunday monring to a particularily sunny day. according to my favorite sunday morning custom-- spending a few hours drinking coffee and relaxing (preferably with those i love) at blue monday-- i had already scoped out my rishikesh sunday morning cafe. i chose the particular spot partially because of its location on the banks of the river and open-air seating and partially because of its german bakery. this bit of peace proved a stark contrast to the colossal adventure home to mussoorie.
sometimes our lives make us feel particularly mortal. lucky to be alive, if you will. moments like these might even impel you to kiss the ground to celebrate a safe arrival. last night, on the way home from rishikesh, a city on the ganga approximately 3 hours away from mussoorie, my friends and i shared a group hug upon arrival at the woodstock front gate. we left rishikesh at about 2 and met a parade and a few traffic jams. riding a motorcycle is an amazing experience because bike passengers lack the options of the bus or car rider, forcing constant presence in the moment. during a particularily hairy tunnel, brian and i popped up the front wheel of our bike, went a bit out of control and both fell off the bike. however, this slow motion first-accident in my life was nothing compared to the trek up the mountain.
following a delicious pizza dinner in dehra dun, we approached the foothills of mussoorie. the sun set over the dehra dun cityscape and brian commented, "the lonely planet says you should never drive a motorcycle at night." a sidenote: for those of you who don't know, i deem the lonely planet the ultimate authority and often refer to it as "the bible." little did we know the experiential learning to come. as the sky darkened, the oncoming traffic evolved from cars and buses to blinding lights and honking horns careening around the curvy mountain road. the hopeful lights of mussoorie occassionally came into view, "so close but oh so far away," brian would sigh each time. on a few occassions buses would blind brian as we would around a corner and i would hold my breath, hoping the bus was not even a few inches over the center line. on at least two occassions i was sure that the bus was going to either a) detatch our legs or b) force us over the side of the mountain. nearer to mussoorie the road became sprinkled with cows and, at one juncture, a donkey herd. when we finally reached mulungar hill at the top of the mussoorie bazaar, brian let out an "oh yeah, all right" (reminiscent of approximately 86% of cake songs) and we thanked god, buddha, ganesh, the world, that we were alive.
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